


The Thrill Of The Chase

by CatherineMorgenstern



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: AU (that ties into canon at the end), Anxiety, Camping, F/M, Halloween, Hiking, Horror Movie Tropes, Jacob's Judges, Religious Symbols, Whitetail Mountains, animal carcass, creepy Jacob, didn't your mother teach you not to play with your food?, no smut (sorry folks), non-romantic, rated M for description of gore (it's only one instance but better safe than sorry), so Jake and Eli aren't in an all out war yet, someone's got a sadistic streak, things that go bump in the night - Freeform, this is set before the events of the game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 10:57:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21252272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatherineMorgenstern/pseuds/CatherineMorgenstern
Summary: What was supposed to be a serene getaway to the Whitetail Mountains on Halloween turns into a nightmare straight out of a horror movie.





	The Thrill Of The Chase

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for this fandom after having procrastinated for over a year so here goes nothing.
> 
> 🎃 Happy Halloween everyone 🎃

* * *

Your labored breathing painted white clouds into the air as you pushed yourself forward, steadily climbing the slight increase of the mountainous forest path. The world around you was awash with a vivid color palette of reds, oranges and yellows, causing the woods to look like they were on fire, especially in those areas where the sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves. Despite your exertions and the warmth of the sun, there was a noticeable chill in the air that grew biting whenever the wind picked up which caused leaves to float to the floor to join the already thick carpet that crunched and rustled beneath your boots with each step. That typical fall scent of sweet decay drifted upwards from the earth, painting a smile on your lips. 

Aside from the noise you were making, birdsong was the only other sound to disturb the peace. To your right, the mountain fell sharply down towards Cedar Lake which lay stretched out below you though it was mostly obscured by foliage. You'd been hiking for a good four hours and from the research you'd done before the trip, you knew that you should reach a plateau that overlooked the lake you'd caught glimpses of any minute now.

Sure enough, after another ten minutes, you arrived. The spot was just as scenic as it had appeared in the brochure. A few wooden picnic tables were arranged in such a way that each one had an unobstructed view and there was a restroom at the far end of the plateau. With a relieved sigh, you took off your heavy backpack and plopped onto the bench that had the most direct view of the glittering water below. Taking out sandwiches and a travel mug filled with coffee, you soaked in the sights and sounds as you bathed in the midday sun that was surprisingly strong, warming your face. You were glad that you'd applied sunscreen this morning.

This was just what the doctor had ordered, you thought contentedly. Here, away from the tumult of everyday life, you could almost believe you were the only person on earth and you relished that notion as all the accumulated stress seemed to slowly bleed out of you every time you inhaled the sharp, clean air. Instead of joining your friends on a Haunted House tour or, God forbid, hand out candies to swarms of ankle biters on a sugar high, you'd decided to take November first off work and make it a long weekend. You hadn't hiked properly in years - you didn't count the camping trips with your friends since they were mostly an excuse to get wasted - but fond memories of going with your dad had created the urge in you to do so again. Hope County's Whitetails had held a special place in your heart ever since your family had spent a summer holiday here when you'd been a child. You were glad you'd picked this destination because, for one, the area was truly breathtaking but it was also only a few hours drive from Missoula. Perfect for a weekend getaway.

You'd debated whether to ask one of your friends to join you because the prospect of going camping alone in the middle of nowhere was a little daunting but, ultimately, your desire for solitude had won out. And it wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment decision. During last year's Halloween party, you'd been so bored with everything that you'd sworn to avoid it this year and you'd settled on going hiking in the Whitetails as your New Year's resolution. With that much time to plan, you'd made sure to exercise regularly and go hiking near your hometown. The only difference was that those had been day trips. Since you knew you'd be by yourself, you'd made sure to buy lightweight gear and familiarize yourself with it. During the past month you'd practiced setting up the bivy sack, for example, which had earned you more than a few snide comments from your neighbors since the only place you could do that was the inner courtyard of your apartment building. Most of them, in addition to your friends and family, had had no issue letting you know that they thought you were crazy. A pretty, young woman traipsing along the wilderness all by her lonesome was inviting trouble, apparently. You'd brushed all of them off. If anything, their fear-mongering and derision had spurred you on to go through with it just to prove them wrong.

After throwing away your garbage, you decided to use the restroom before continuing your hike. For a second, you debated whether or not you should take your backpack with you but then you figured that since there was no one around and you'd only be a minute, it would be fine to leave it outside. You unzipped the front pocket to get a packet of wet wipes and the disinfectant you always carried just in case. Setting the backpack onto the table, you headed for the restroom.

When you came back a few minutes later, you stopped short at the sight of a tall man with shaggy, shoulder-length dark hair and a full beard who'd emerged from a barely distinguishable trail that snaked through the woods, branching off the beaten path. He looked a bit dishevelled and he was wearing fatigues. With how well he blended into the background of the forest even in broad daylight, you wondered if you'd have noticed him if he hadn't approached you on his own.

"Hi," you greeted warily as you walked in the general vicinity of your backpack while keeping an eye on him.

Knowing that you'd have to rely on yourself this weekend, you'd brought a hunting knife as well as a small gun but the latter was hidden in your backpack to be taken out in worst case scenarios only. As you waited for the stranger to respond, your hand drifted to the hilt of said knife that hugged the curve of your hip where it dangled from your belt.

The man nodded in response as he subjected you to a piercing, soul-searching look. Your hand closed around the knife's hilt and your muscles tensed as you waited for him to say or do something.

Then he smiled and you relaxed infinitesimally as you noticed the crinkles around his eyes.

"Tourist, huh?" he said in a pleasantly deep rumble.

"Yeah," you replied quietly, being put at ease by the warmth in his voice despite telling yourself to stay vigilant.

"Welcome to Hope County, then."

"Thank you,….?"

"Eli."

"Eli," you repeated. After giving him a small smile, you told him your name. "You live around here, I take it?"

He hummed affirmatively. "Where's the rest of your group?"

You opened your mouth to say that you were alone but hesitated. Would it be wise to flaunt the fact that you were on your own? After all, you had no idea what his intentions were even if he seemed nice enough.

Eli flashed his teeth at you in a quick grin. "I'm not a serial killer, I promise."

You scoffed. "Said every serial killer ever!"

Laughing, he nodded in acquiescence. "Maybe so."

Deciding to trust your gut instinct that he was alright, you said, "I'm planning on keeping to myself this weekend."

Eli's easy smile turned into a frown as his eyes flitted from you to your gear. "You wanna stay overnight in the woods all by yourself?

You raised your chin defiantly. "Yes," you said in a tone that dared him to patronize you.

Cocking his head, he sighed resignedly and jutted his chin towards you as his gaze dropped to your midsection. "I hope you've got something to protect you aside from that knife."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you asked, "Why? Is there anything dangerous out here that I should know about?" He gave you a look that you interpreted as _ duh _. "I mean aside from the normal wildlife."

Eli opened his mouth and then abruptly snapped it shut again as he seemed to choke on a sound that got stuck in his throat. "No," he finally said. "No, just your regular variety of animals but they can make for pretty nasty encounters so you should keep an eye out."

You weren't fooled. He'd been about to say something else and you'd bet your ass that it hadn't been concerning Montana's wildlife.

"Right," you said, not bothering to mask your disbelief.

He stared at you for a few seconds with an ever-deepening frown. "Did you bring bells?"

"Bells? Whatever for?"

"To set up a perimeter alarm," he said matter-of-factly. "Tin cans would work as well."

"Are you fucking with me? What is this? Survivalist 101?"

"Better safe than sorry, kid."

You bristled at the moniker. He didn't look that much older than you and you despised being talked down to or treated like an imbecile.

"I've got it, thanks."

"Maybe you should consider going home--"

"What?"

"-- or spending the night in Fall's End."

"Why?"

Eli didn't answer right away and you couldn't quite decipher the look he was giving you.

"The people who've chosen to live up here are-- they're… they value their privacy, is all."

"And?"

"Some might not be thrilled to come across tourists."

You shrugged. "The Whitetails are a national park so I'm allowed to be here."

"Yes, but--"

"No buts. I'm staying, end of story."

Turning on your heel, you marched towards your backpack but slowed your steps when you came close to it. The backpack was sitting on the bench, though you could have sworn you'd put it on the table. Throwing a suspicious glance over your shoulder at Eli, who was watching you, you did a quick check of the contents but didn't notice anything missing at first glance. Maybe you were just being paranoid. After you put it back on, you let your gaze sweep over the area to make sure you hadn't left any of your stuff lying around.

"I've lingered long enough," you said. "Have a good day, Eli."

You heard his weary sigh after you'd passed him and for some reason it sent an ominous shiver down your spine. Surely, he was just trying to scare you. Or he might be one of those delusional loner types. 

At least you hoped that was all it was.

**~~~**

After you'd spent the rest of the afternoon hiking, blessedly without any more sightings of other people, you looked for a spot to set up camp and finally found a location that was on even ground, sheltered from the wind and in proximity to a small stream. First order of business was to make a fire and then you cleared the area where you'd decided to set up your bivy sack, spreading out a tarp for extra insulation.

You were warming up soup as dusk tinged the sky purple. In between the trees it got dark rapidly so by the time you dug into your food and had made hot chocolate, darkness was pressing in all around you and though you felt quite toasty sitting in front of the flames, you noticed how much the temperature had dropped already. There was a distinct bite in the air that cooled your back and you were thankful for having chosen to bring a sleeping pad as well as a sleeping bag.

You were dead tired, but you sat a little longer out by the fire, taking in the sights and sounds of the woods - owls hooted and it smelled like pine trees which you automatically associated with Christmas - and enjoyed the peaceful solitude. Soon you had to call it a night, though, or you'd fall asleep out in the open so you extinguished the flames and relieved yourself before you changed into sweatpants and a hoodie over your thermal underwear, put all your belongings into the pack liner inside the bivy sack and crawled into your sleeping bag. Since the night was clear and the forecast hadn't predicted rain or snow, you left the head portion unzipped, giving you an unimpeded view of the starry night sky.

Due to your physical exertions during the day, you fell asleep more quickly than you had in months.

**~~~**

It was pitch black when you awoke with a start. Your heart was racing and your underwear stuck to your sweaty skin but you were still too befuddled to make sense of what had managed to rouse you from your dreams. Straining your ears despite your pounding heartbeat that momentarily drowned out everything else, you tried to listen for any unusual noises. Reaching for the flashlight you'd placed next to you within the bivy sack, you slowly unzipped your sleeping bag after you'd gotten your boots out of the bag you'd stored them in to not get the interior dirty. Slipping into your shoes, you loosely tied the laces as your eyes frantically darted this way and that in an effort to make out shapes and forms before shrugging into your coat. It was too dark to see much but you were reluctant to switch on the flashlight since that would alert everyone and everything in the vicinity to your exact whereabouts. Armed with your knife in one hand and flashlight in the other, you crouched in front of your bivy sack, went as still as you could and waited.

A breeze stirred the fine hairs along your hairline that had escaped your braid. You could barely make out the stone circle that marked your fire pit since clouds obscured the moon that would otherwise have illuminated the night. The trees were alive with the sound of rustling leaves and birds were chirping animatedly though you couldn't identify the species aside from the owls you'd overheard earlier; their hooting sounded much eerier at night though. It gave you the creeps but since those were natural sounds, you felt reassured at nothing being out of the ordinary. Straightening up, you waited a few more seconds and when nothing changed, you switched on the flashlight.

The bright beam cut a path through the darkness and you were struck by how different the scene looked with shadows creeping in from all sides, blurring the edges in such a way that it sent your imagination going wild but you didn't detect any movement on the ground. You shone your light upwards into the trees and flinched when a swarm of bats erupted from their hiding spot, scaring the living daylights out of you. The crowns still held a fair number of leaves but there were wide gaps in between the clusters and the branches looked gnarly in those places, reminding you of a corpse that had been feasted on by carrion feeders with bits of flesh still sticking to the skeleton.

There was nothing to be afraid of, you repeated to yourself. You'd probably been woken by a combination of an unquiet dream and some animal making a bit of noise as it passed by your camping spot. Releasing a sigh, you relaxed. For your peace of mind you decided to walk the perimeter to check if any of the flora looked as if it had been disturbed before going back to sleep. The bushes dotting the small clearing seemed intact enough. At least you didn't see any flattened parts that looked suspicious. Any residual tension you'd still carried flowed out of you at that and you shook your head at your misplaced paranoia. Maybe the prospect of camping alone in the woods had made you more anxious than you'd been willing to acknowledge even to yourself.

As you pivoted on your heel, intending to turn back the way you'd come, the arching path of your flashlight illuminated something on the floor which you caught out of the corner of your eye. Freezing in place for a second, you willed yourself to walk towards it. Lowering into a crouch, you took in the sight of footprints leading towards and away from one of the knee-high bushes with mounting dread. The profile on them had left deep indentations, creating a perfect print. Even at first glance it was obvious that they belonged to a man and after measuring them with your hand you guessed they must be approximately 11 inches in length. Surreptitiously, you glanced around, searching for some sign of life amongst the shadowed trees. Throwing a look over your shoulder, you had a clear line of sight towards your bivy sack from here. Whoever had left these would have had an unimpeded view and the thought that someone might have been spying on you while you'd lain unawares made goosebumps erupt all over your body.

Think rationally, you chided yourself.

There was no way of knowing how long they'd been here after all. It hadn't rained since you'd arrived in the Whitetails so, for all you knew, these might be a few days old and had nothing to do with you and even if someone had been here this night, they'd obviously left. Maybe they'd turned around when they'd seen that this spot was already occupied. Though why anyone would wander around the woods in the middle of the night, you had no idea. Then again, you didn't know if they'd been here when you'd arrived and it wasn't any of your business anyway as long as the nighttime wanderer left you alone.

A queasy feeling had settled in the pit of your stomach nonetheless. The breeze picked up, making you shiver both from the cold and the sound it made as it whistled through the tree branches. Mustering up your courage, you decided to put a stop to your silly overactive imagination. There was nothing ominous in these woods, you told yourself, and it was high time to get some more sleep. After all, you had a day of hiking ahead of you and would need all the strength you could get. Nodding to yourself, you determinedly turned your back on the footprints and strode towards your bivy sack.

Once you'd settled back into your sleeping bag, with the flashlight and knife close at hand, you shut your eyes and tried to force all thoughts of peeping toms and more sinister figures from your mind in order to relax enough for sleep to claim you. It was much easier said than done. After what felt like ages you finally got drowsy. As you lingered in the space between wakefulness and sleeping, you thought you heard wolves howling.

**~~~**

The next morning, you were bleary-eyed and a pulsing headache had taken up residence in your left temple. Brewing coffee in a one-filter cup while you were cooking breakfast, you thought back on last night's disturbance as you looked across the small clearing and remembered how frightened you'd been. It seemed so silly in the light of day. Like a child being afraid of the dark, you thought with a wry smile aimed at yourself. The trees looked splendid with the morning sun seemingly setting them ablaze even though the air was even chillier than yesterday. Birds chirped all around you and the cackle of your fire created a cozy atmosphere. In the distance, you could make out the stream, flecks of glittering water made it seem like a mirage; what you imagined an oasis must appear like in the desert to the eyes of a weary traveler. Cupping the mug of coffee, you allowed the serenity of the morning to soothe your frayed nerves. It was akin to a picture you'd see on a postcard or a setting you'd read about in fairy tales. What was it people said about things looking too perfect to be true? Hopefully it wouldn't turn out to be a bad omen for things to come.

After you'd made sure your fire was properly extinguished and you'd packed up your belongings, you consulted your map to review the path you'd picked out prior to this weekend before heading further north. As you left the clearing, you couldn't help but risk a glance towards the footprints that had so unsettled you last night. It was parts morbid curiosity and parts needing to make sure that you hadn't imagined them. They were there alright but they weren't the only ones and it caused you to come to an abrupt stop. Next to the footprints you'd examined last night were paw prints. Blinking incomprehensibly, you stared at what had to be dog tracks. They were awfully large, though. You knew Montana had wolves but you weren't well-versed enough in identifying tracks to be sure whether these were left by a big dog or a wolf. Since they were so close to the human footprint it made sense that they'd belong to a big dog, though. Then again, why hadn't you noticed these last night? That meant they had to have been left after you'd gone back to sleep, didn't it?

A shudder went through you despite it being broad daylight and if your pace increased to walk past them, it was merely because you wanted to make good time. Your shoulders didn't relax until about half an hour later when you were well on your way. If all went as planned, you'd spend one more night at the highest point of your hike and another on the way down as you circled back towards your car. The view from your next stop was supposed to be amazing and though the sky was overcast and temperatures were much colder today, you looked forward to settling down at the end of the day in front of a merrily crackling fire to make s'mores and deplete the candy you'd brought in celebration of Halloween.

**~~~**

Firelight painted the night golden, its fiery depths mesmerizing you while you waited for your s'mores to be done. Smiling to yourself, you thought of how your friends and family were probably dealing with hordes of screaming children and drunkards right now while you enjoyed spiked hot chocolate with no one to bother you. You might have to consider making this into a tradition because spending Halloween this way was as close to perfect as it could get.

The s'mores and candy combatted the alcohol in your hot chocolate well enough that you were only slightly buzzed and considering that you'd been on your feet all day and would be again tomorrow, you didn't feel the least bit guilty about stuffing your face. You stayed outside until late in the evening, reading by the fire - which must be one of the great pleasures of life - as the night slowly came alive around you. The by now familiar sight of bats didn't startle you anymore and instead of being unsettled by the owl cries, you listened and acknowledged how beautiful they were. You lamented the fact that you hadn't seen any deer yet; they were so majestic and you'd hoped against hope that you'd be able to take a picture of a real life stag.

Maybe you should move out here. Some charming little cottage in the middle of the woods where there was no noise, no smog, no nosey neighbors and neither family nor friends would have any excuse to drop by without announcing themselves in advance. A howl pierced the night and was soon joined by others. Wolves, you thought, your mind flashing back to the tracks you'd discovered that morning. You shuddered. On second thought, maybe staying near civilisation wasn't so bad after all. You recalled Eli telling you to set up a perimeter alarm but you hadn't brought tins or anything bell-like with you.

They wouldn't come near you, right? Right.

**~~~**

After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, you'd managed to doze off until a loud snap made you bolt upright, causing you to get tangled in your sleeping bag. Since you'd zipped up only the mesh part to protect your face from insects, you saw the beam of a flashlight cutting across your bivy sack. Someone was out there. With a pounding heart, you patted the space next to you until you'd located your hunting knife before tugging on your shoes and coat while trying to move as little as possible, lest you'd alert the intruder to you being awake. Holding your breath, you listened with all your might for footsteps or someone else's breathing but to no avail. You wished you could just play dead and let the danger pass but you knew that would not only be cowardly but put you at a disadvantage should they decide to attack.

Your hand shook a little as you pulled the zipper open bit by bit, cautious to make as little noise as possible. As soon as you'd created enough space to move, you shifted into a crouch and tentatively peered over the flap at the area you'd chosen to set up camp in. Leaves fluttered down, knocked off their branches by the wind that stirred the fine hairs around your face. It was bitterly cold and the scent of pine mixed with the scent of rotting leaves. And you smelt something else underneath it, something that reminded you of rust.

Licking your lip, you decided that it was now or never. It wouldn't do you any good to linger here in fright. Either there was something dangerous in the vicinity and you needed to relocate or you were a scaredy-cat that needed to get a grip asap but you were going to take your gun with you. If there was ever going to be an occasion that called for firepower it was the possibility of being stalked in the forest by some lunatic. Quietly, you reached into your backpack but after rummaging through it for a couple of minutes you had to face the fact that it was gone. Instantly, your mind flashed back to the picnic area and your backpack not having been where you were sure you'd left it. Shit, that couldn't mean anything good. You had no choice but to go outside without your gun. Taking care to step lightly, you ventured away from the imagined safety of your bivy sack, inching across the clearing.

Nothing moved except for the wind ruffling the bushes, causing leaves to drift to the ground like snowflakes. One of them got tangled in your hair but you were too tense to bother brushing it off. Reluctantly, you switched on your flashlight, bracing for being charged the second you gave your location away. Sweat had beaded on your brow and the nape of your neck as your stomach tied itself into knots but no attack was forthcoming.

Feeling emboldened, you took a closer look and felt your newfound courage take a hit when you found footprints that looked awfully familiar. The owner hadn't even bothered to hide them this time. They were all over the small clearing. To your own surprise, you found yourself getting angry. If this was some kind of sick prank, you were going to rip whoever was fucking with you a new one. The footprints had entered your camping spot across from your bivy sack and appeared to have left the same way so you marched in that direction, determined to find the culprit and yell at them until their head exploded.

The forest swallowed you up seconds after you'd left the safety of the clearing. Though you lit the trail with your flashlight, the darkness got thicker the further you went, pressing in from all sides. Your breath came faster and harder, not from exertion but from fear. Maybe you should turn back while you still could but then you'd be right back where you started. Gritting your teeth, you trod on. Something moved next to you and you jumped, raising your knife as you prepared to strike. You bit your lip until you tasted blood in order not to scream. A small, furry creature darted out of a thorny bush, crossing your path as it raced to safety. The rust-colored pelt clued you in to what it was.

"A fox. It was just a fox," you breathed, letting out a relieved chuckle. "I'm losing my damn mind."

You resumed walking and had just gotten yourself under control again when you saw a lighter patch of forest looming ahead, prompting you to shine your light that way. It looked like a clearing or at least a spot where the trees grew more sparsely. Maybe the jerk who'd messed with you had pitched his tent there. As you let your hand fall to your side, the beam of light glinted off something in the trees that swayed from side to side. A terrible feeling of premonition took a hold of you. Every cell in your body screamed at you to ignore whatever it was but curiosity and obstinacy won out. Smothering the whimper that threatened to burst free, you forced yourself to raise your flashlight. Eight-pointed crosses fashioned out of twigs dangled from gnarly branches up and down the trail. As if they were meant to lead the way.

What. The. Hell.

Shifting from one foot to the other you dithered in place. You really didn't want to go forward. Whether this was some nutjob's work or a harmless prank, the sight of those crosses had raised goosebumps all over your body. If this were a movie, the audience would be screaming at the protagonist to turn around. White shapes appeared behind the treelines on either side of you, cloaked by shadows that seemed to gather more thickly in the empty spaces between the trunks. Then a howl split the air and you could practically feel the color draining from your face. The sound had originated so close to you that you imagined you could feel it reverberate against your skin. Wolves. But white ones? You'd only ever heard of arctic wolves existing in Canada so it seemed impossible for a pack of them to turn up in Hope County, Montana.

Get out of here first, ruminate on the species later, you told yourself.

The white shapes seemed to come closer. Better get out fast. Turning back the way you'd come, you came to face to face with a massive wolf. It had a red cross drawn in between its eyes and was snarling at you, spittle flying from its maw, as it blocked the path. Low, deep growls emanated from the beast. Your heart seemed to have jumped into your throat but you were frozen in place. Then it leaped towards you and you shrieked as you pivoted on your heel, almost twisting your ankle, and ran in the opposite direction. Even in your panic you remembered that you hadn't wanted to approach the end of this trail but quick glances left and right let you know that you couldn't break through the undergrowth at your sides because of the other wolves who'd joined in with snarls and growls of their own. Though a few of them had emerged from the bushes and were nipping at your heels, they never actually made contact and before you knew it, you stumbled into the clearing, stepping on something squishy.

The moon was hidden behind quickly moving clouds, providing sparse illumination whenever the blanket of clouds thinned enough for it to shine through. At first your brain refused to make sense of what you were seeing, covered as it was in darkness, and the only thing that registered was the deer. Then your eyes widened as you slapped a hand over your mouth to hold in the scream that threatened to erupt. Not even the crisp fall breeze could cover the stench of outhouse that soaked the air, turning your stomach. The leaf-strewn ground was drenched in blood that looked almost black in the dim light. It seeped out of wetly glistening, stringy _ things _ that reminded you of three-dimensional streamers and were arranged in two circles around the deer in their center. The carcass was savagely torn open, exposing its chest and stomach cavities and dripping blood down its hide.

Your eyes flicked downwards at your own feet. When you'd entered the clearing, you'd stepped into the outer circle, crushing parts of what you realized with horror had to be intestines. Bile rose up in the back of your throat and before you had time to turn away, you were vomiting onto the gruesomely decorated floor. Tears flowed down your cheeks as painful cramps wrecked your stomach. After you'd expelled everything inside you and the retching had petered out into dry heaving, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, grimacing at the sour taste left on your tongue. Sobs spilled from your lips as you straightened up and your gaze landed once more on the dead animal. Shaking with fear, you slowly lifted your flashlight. Though the deer's body had been ripped open, there was a large hunting knife lodged in the side of its head. That and the carefully orchestrated display belied the impression that it had been a wolf attack. At the very least wolves hadn't been the only ones at work here.

Was this for your benefit? It must be, considering how you'd been lured here. The perpetrator had stalked you from last night's camp to this one and you were suddenly sure that those footprints had been left where you were guaranteed to find them - on both occasions - and then there were those twig crosses that had led you to a carcass with a knife through its head inside a big, fat target. And those wolves. They'd threatened you but they hadn't harmed you; not yet at least. It was almost as if… as if they'd been herding you.

Terror washed through you.

What was that supposed to mean? That there was a target on your back and you were next?

Your breathing had accelerated to harsh pants as you ruminated on all of this and then whistling cut through the night air, making you freeze all over again. Across from you, on the other side of the clearing, you saw something move: a tall shape that was unmistakably human. Backing away but unable to tear your eyes away from the approaching form, you watched in fascinated horror as the man got closer and closer until you could make out details. In the beam of your still raised flashlight, you saw that he had a shock of red hair - shaved at the sides, cut into a floppy mohawk on top - and a full, bushy beard. His face looked splotchy in places and you thought you saw some scarring. He was broad of shoulder, dressed in an army jacket - what was it with Hope County and men wearing fatigues, you wondered absentmindedly - and had a bright red rifle casually slung over his shoulder. His eyes seemed unnaturally luminous in the light. A slow, malicious smirk appeared on his lips.

"Evenin', pup."

His deep voice was low and seemed to bodily caress you, curling around your senses as sinuous as smoke. A shiver wracked your body. Despite there being no doubt in your mind that this was the person responsible for the atrocity at your feet and your torment these past two nights, you felt the strongest urge to walk towards him as if he could provide safety.

That notion got dispelled swiftly when he aimed his weapon at you. It activated your flight instinct like nothing else. Turning around, you ran like you'd never run before in your life, tearing down that godforsaken trail that you never should've followed in the first place.

The only thought in your head was that you needed to get out of here; out of these woods, out of these mountains, out of this county. As you jumped over tree roots and shouldered aside bushes that tore at your clothes and your face, you frantically patted the pockets of your coat in search of your car keys. Though you were heading towards your campsite, you'd rather not have to stop to retrieve them from the depths of your backpack. Relief spread through you, warming you from the inside for a few precious seconds: they were in the inside pocket over your chest. You knew that it would be advisable to take at least a bottle of water with you, considering that your car was a two day's hike away but you would lose time. As you tore into the clearing across from your stuff, you risked a glance over your shoulder and saw… nothing. There was no sign of the man or his wolves. You'd assumed the animals were in hot pursuit, but they'd disappeared. You clenched your jaw; another game no doubt. But you wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Focusing on getting to your bivy sack to grab that bottle of water and maybe your map while you had a head start, you tripped and toppled to your knees, staring ahead in abject terror.

Another target was painted onto the outside of your bivy sack, dripping fresh blood. Underneath it were the words _ Only You _.

Then you heard unhurried footsteps behind you which prompted you to scramble to your feet and dash across the clearing, brushing past your things to follow the trail you'd hiked earlier this day at a dead run without another backwards glance. The path's decline made you unsteady, causing you to trip whenever you gathered too much speed but you persevered, thinking only of putting as much distance between yourself and your pursuer as possible. Howls sounded behind you and a sob tore out of you. Panic made you feel jittery as sweat trickled down your temples and caused your undershirt to stick uncomfortably to your back. You thanked your lucky stars that you hadn't attempted to hike off the beaten path, otherwise you'd have stood no chance whatsoever to find your way back.

A bullet flashed past you, missing you by an inch. It startled you so much that you dove sideways even though it would've been too late to avoid the arrow. Your shoulder hit a tree and you cried out from the impact but were glad that you were wearing multiple layers so at least you didn't lose any skin from that collision. Realizing that the rifle you'd seen must be a sniper rifle, you began to zigzag, feeling utterly silly as you did so but hopefully it would make it harder for him to aim true.

Time became a nonexistent thing in the darkness. You had no idea how late it was or how long you'd been running. The only measurement was the ever-increasing fatigue that weighed down your limbs and made you more accident-prone by the second. You'd lost count of how often you'd fallen or tripped and your will to live was the only motivation that propelled you onwards as a series of bullets flew in your direction and wolves leaped at you, jaws closing on your calves and arms without really harming you. They were playing with their food, you'd come to understand a while ago and though the fact that they hadn't ripped you to shreds yet should have comforted you, you found the chase demoralizing. Your strength was dwindling fast and you had no concept of how much further your car might be. But what frustrated you the most was the sense of arrogance this little game of hide and seek conveyed on the hunter's part; he must be awfully certain that he could take you down whenever he chose to do so, probably long before you'd reach the parking lot.

You had to stop as your calf seized up, cramping so badly that it brought tears to your eyes. Another bullet whirred past you, penetrating the tree bark a smidgen to your right. Though your body wasn't ready yet to start running again, you did so anyway despite the shooting pain that forced you to hobble whenever you attempted to put your weight on that leg. Despair blanketed your other emotions: you'd never make it out of here, there was just no way. But what was the alternative? Letting this guy catch you? And then what? That grisly display from earlier didn't exactly inspire confidence as to what he might have in store for you. No, you couldn't let him capture you. Maybe he planned on putting a knife through your brain anyway just like he'd done to that deer once he'd gotten tired of chasing you.

Weary, cold and exhausted you staggered onwards, making sure to keep zigzagging, even dipping around trees every now and then for more cover. He seemed to find that amusing, though, judging by the bullets that always hit those specific trunks while they remained absent when you were out in the open. The only time your spirit lifted somewhat was when you recognized landmarks that assured you that you hadn't gotten lost. By now sweat was streaming down your face and thirst was clawing at you more insistently with every mile you left behind. Your hands were scraped bloody from the times you'd fallen down or prevented just that by bracing yourself against trees.

Up ahead you spied a bench that you'd stopped at to have lunch earlier today. Calculating how long you'd been walking before sitting down to eat and the hours you'd hiked on your first day, you estimated that there was a 12 hour walk ahead of you before you'd make it to your car. Even if you were able to sustain this pace, you'd have to run through the night and the next morning. You didn't recall having seen any cabins or sheds on your way up so there was little chance that you'd find help unless you'd made it to the parking lot. With how you ached all over it didn't look promising. If only you'd asked that Eli guy to tell you where his home was. He must live somewhere close by but veering off the known path to search for his house would be a fool's errand; you'd get lost in the wilderness in no time.

Hours passed this way. You'd tried to let your mind go blank the way you did when you exercised to make it feel as though time moved faster but you were kept on your toes by the pack of wolves that frequently got close enough to put the fear of God in you. One of them - the alpha, you assumed; the one that had barred your way earlier - was a particularly nasty piece of work. It was relentless. The others would fall back every now and then, giving you a reprieve but this one was always the first to leap at you and the last to relent only because of the sharp whistle that called it off. Right now it was snapping at your heels, having torn the back of your coat already when you'd slowed down a little bit. The growls were deafening and you were pretty sure that it was desperate to properly tear into you if only its master would allow it to do so. Your thoughts regarding this particular specimen - and its owner - got more uncharitable by the second but were interrupted by sudden, blinding pain.

The beast's jaws had closed around your leg just above your Achilles' heel but this time it hadn't let go. You crashed to the ground, bringing your leg up to your chest on instinct once it had torn what felt like a big chunk of flesh out of you. You screamed yourself hoarse from the agony emanating from the wound. As your hand made contact with the lower part of your leg, you could feel your own warm and sticky blood coating your fingers. The wolf was poised above you, snarling at its prey with blood smearing its snout. Your vision dimmed at the edges from the white-hot pain before you screwed your eyes shut, waiting for the creature to finish the job.

A bullet hit the wolf, making it howl and turn around with raised hackles.

"Get up!"

The voice was faintly familiar but it was hard to concentrate on anything but the waves of agony that suffused your entire being. Clenching your jaw so hard that your teeth ached, you fiddled with the knife at your hip, somehow managing to pull it out of its sheath despite your badly shaking hand. You let go of your injured leg, crying out at the lessening of pressure, but though tears blinded your vision, you took a hold of the bottom of your shirt, sawing a long strip of cloth off of it before you let the knife fall to the ground in order to tightly bandage your leg. Drawing your legs up, you shifted onto your knees, grabbed your knife and used a nearby tree to climb to your feet, unsteady as you were.

When you were finally upright and able to focus on the scene in front of you, you recognized Eli. He was shooting at the wolf but the beast was fast.

"Eli," you croaked, "what--"

He aimed his gun at the wolf's head but it sprang to the side, causing the bullet to sink into its flank. A high-pitched yelp followed by a vicious, low growl was the answer. Eli used its temporary preoccupation to hasten towards you but a precisely executed shot sent a bullet into Eli's knee, making his leg give out from under him. You shouted his name again and let go of the tree you'd still been holding onto, intending to help him. A longer whistle than the ones you'd heard before sounded and then the wolf attacked Eli. Your heart was racing as you watched the man who'd tried to help you wrestle with the animal. If only you had your gun!

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the wolf's master appear with the rest of the pack milling around him. They were all snarling and quite obviously desperate to join in.

"Seed," Eli all but growled, "call off your damn pet!"

Sly amusement showed on the man's face as he eyed the predicament Eli found himself in. "No," he drawled, "I don't think so."

"Jacob!"

But Jacob had already dismissed the other man and made eye contact with you instead. He snapped his fingers, sending the pack your way.

"Run!" Eli shouted at you even though he had his hands full.

Since you were of no use to him, you did as he told you. The pain in your leg was unbearable but fear urged you forward. A shot rang out behind you but no bullet came close. You hoped that signalled Eli having killed his canine opponent. Blood had soaked the cloth you'd covered your wound with to capacity and you could feel it running down, pooling in your shoe. The squishy sensation reminded you of the grotesque target in that clearing and the intestines you'd stepped on. Nausea once again bubbled up, making you queasy.

Behind you, footsteps followed closely.

You glanced over your shoulder. Jacob was barely recognizable in the dark but the way he held himself looked self-assured and almost indifferent, as if he couldn't care less about what you might do next. In the few seconds you'd wasted on checking on him, your shoe hooked behind a root and though you tried to make a leap that would restore your balance, you had to use your bad leg to do so and it buckled beneath you. Crashing to the ground, you barely had time to bring up your arms to shield your face from making acquaintance with the hard earth beneath the blanket of leaves. Your survival instinct told you to get up and get up now but you had no strength left. All you managed to do was crawl forward while dragging your injured leg behind you. It didn't take more than a minute for the wolves to catch up with you and Jacob wasn't far behind.

Nonetheless, you would have continued your attempt to keep moving but Jacob crouched down next to you and clamped his hand around your wound, making your vision whiten out as you collapsed. Pounding your fist into the ground, you tried to alleviate some of the pain since his grip was as unyielding as iron. 

"You're tough, aren't you, pup," he stated conversationally. "I can work with that."

You didn't get a chance to ask him what that meant. Shifting his grip, he dug his fingers into the open wound until you'd blacked out from the pain.

**~~~**

You were chilled to the bone.

The ground you were lying on was hard. Cold sweat made your skin feel grimy and your fingertips and nose were numb. Shivers wracked your body, making your teeth chatter. The only part of your anatomy that had retained any warmth was your leg; pain radiated from that point in dull, throbbing waves, making you curl up even tighter in a fetal position. Your surroundings were loud: shouting and clanging and more of that infernal howling. It seemed to take superhuman strength to lift your eyelids.

Your first clue as to how screwed you were was the fact that bars separated you from the rest of a courtyard. There was an eight-pointed cross painted in black on one of the walls with _ Project At Eden's Gate _ written beneath it and on the far wall, in red, were the words: _ You Are Meat _. How charming. Armed men in grey jackets were busy doing god knows what but your more imminent concern was the guy sitting in front of the goddamn cage you'd been put in.

Glaring up at Jacob, you felt a jolt of unease when your eyes locked with his light blue ones; they were as clear as the sky on a frigid winter's day and held just as much warmth. He was studying you intently and you felt the urge to fidget under that unrelenting gaze but every time you so much as twitched your vision began to swim before your eyes. Since your stubbornness prohibited you to be the one to break the silence, you returned the favor. He was still wearing that army jacket over a tattered gray shirt but now, in broad daylight, you could make out the name tag that said _ J. Seed _. Jacob Seed, at least you knew the lunatic's name for when you sicced the police on him after you'd made it out of this hellhole. A bunch of necklaces hung from his neck: along with dog tags there was something that looked like chimes and a... rabbit foot? What a weirdo. There were stains looking suspiciously like blood on his dirty jeans. In his hands he was twirling a knife that was shockingly familiar.

"You stole my knife?"

Your voice came out in a weak wheeze but the accusatory inflection remained perfectly intact.

He smirked and held the knife up in front of his face. It looked ridiculously small in his large hands.

"This? I don't think this counts as a real knife, honey," he drawled as his other hand fell to the red hunting knife at his hip that looked humongous in comparison.

The scarring on his face which you'd noticed last night - had it been last night or had you been here longer? - was interspersed with red discolorations that appeared to be some kind of a rash. His forearms were afflicted as well. It looked painful, you thought, and then quickly smothered any smidgen of pity you'd normally feel for a fellow human being in pain. This jerk had stalked you, terrified you, sicced his pet wolves on you and-- Eli!

"What happened to Eli?" you demanded to know, boosting yourself into a sitting position as best as you could.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about Palmer," he told you dismissively. "You got bigger things to worry about. Like that wound getting infected."

You couldn't help but bare your teeth at the smug derision in his voice but that display only made him chuckle. When you got out of this cage, the first order of business was to punch one Jacob Seed in the face.

Setting your knife down beside him, he reached underneath his chair to grab a bottle of water. All of a sudden your thirst intensified exponentially and you couldn't have wrenched your gaze away from that bit of plastic if your life depended on it.

"Thirsty, pup?"

Anger and helplessness made you close your eyes as you bit your tongue hard enough to draw blood. He was dangling this in front of you on purpose and you could do nothing to stop him but you'd be damned if you participated in his sick, little mind games. The sound of a cap being unscrewed and swallowing seemed heightened to a deafening degree as you longed for just a drop of water to ease your parched throat.

When you had neither looked at him nor spoken in a while, he said, "You don't wanna talk anymore? That's okay. You'll change your mind sooner or later."

Though you refused to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him, you heard the scraping of the chair's legs followed by his retreating footsteps. As soon as they'd become inaudible over the other noises, you chanced a look, watching his broad back as he entered the building that cast shadows over parts of the courtyard.

Then and only then did you finally allow yourself to cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thanks to my outstanding beta, [Heeley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heeley/pseuds/Heeley), for proofreading as well as cheering me on and being the best sounding board a girl could ask for. The bloody target was her idea because she's the queen of horror. Thanks, love.
> 
> Though I know that the classical conditioning comes before waking up in the cage in canon, I decided to ignore that in favour of waking up behind bars because I liked the imagery better for this.
> 
> I have no idea who came up with Jacob calling Rook "pup" but it's everywhere and has become intrinsically linked with him in my mind so kudos to whoever introduced that to the fandom.  
And a big shoutout to [Dearly_Divided](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dearly_Divided/pseuds/Dearly_Divided) who writes fantastic Far Cry 5 pieces and has made the pet name "honey" into a Jacob thing for me. If you haven't checked out her stuff yet, do so now and thank me later.
> 
> I grew up in the countryside and therefore have camped before but I've always been a city girl at heart. Even though I now live in Munich with the Alps right in front of my nose, I've never acquired a taste for hiking, so I know next to nothing, aside from common sense, about camping and hiking but I did some research in order to keep this one-shot realistic.  
[How To Make Coffee While Camping](https://www.theadventurejunkies.com/how-to-make-coffee-while-camping/) (gotta have your priorities straight).  
[Bivy Sack Guide](https://outdoors.campmor.com/where-to-pitch-tent-tips/>How%20To%20Choose%20Where%20To%20Pitch%20Your%20Tent</a>%0A<a%20href=)  
[Tips For Fall Camping](https://www.wilderness.org/articles/article/45-tips-foolproof-fall-camping)


End file.
